Not Going To Get Us
by Lexie Jayne
Summary: Krit's POV throughout his life.


**Title:** Not Going to Get Us

**Author:** Lexie Jayne

**Feedback:** is beloved.

**Pairing:** Syl/Krit.

**Word Count:** 3 148

**Rating:** PG

**Genre:** Romance, Drama.

**Summary:** Krit's POV throughout his life.

**Notes:** As of November 18, the content of this fic has been altered to comply with TOS, and my own change of alias. If you would like to read the original version – and I highly recommend it - of this fic, please visit Written-Word . Org

Inspired by Tatu's song of the same name.

**Spoilers:** Season 1 and 2.

**Warnings:** None.

**Disclaimer:** Dark Angel belongs to James Cameron, and I make no profit from this fan-based venture.

* * *

Running in the snow. Syl's hand is clamped firmly around my upper arm, even though I am taller and faster than she is. She is older than me and I know she has to be the big sister now. I'm really scared. Eva's dead and Zack's been captured.

"Faster Krit," she urges. I can't feel my feet and I speed up, holding her hand. She's bruised my arm and I know she's terrified. She's not allowed to be terrified; she's bigger than me!

I am soon pulling her along. The helicopters are above us, we can both hear the dogs and the voices of the soldiers.

Syl trips, yet I don't stop. I keep running, pulling her along until she manages to regain her footing. Her face is streaked with blood and tears, and I am terrified for her. I want to just hug her, make her warm.

"Keep moving, Krit," she says softly. Her lips are blue and I am shivering. We're alone. Zack, Zack, what are our orders?

We come to a road, slippery with mushy snow. We slide down the bank, running. Gun shots ring out behind us. They've got us. I know it. They'll take my Syl away from me and I'll never see her again. She'll be taken back to Psy Ops and fed to the Nomalies.

We're in some sort of forest now. It is so dark and cold. My skin feels slippery and not like it's apart of me. We've been running for three hours now; Syl has been so quiet since we got into this forest. Except for her ragged breathing. . . I have no idea where we are, but I know we need to keep moving until we find Ordinaries. Get some clothes. I remember our lessons on the Outside so clearly. Clothes, we need. Get into a city and Colonel Lydecker will never find us. . .

Syl whimpers; the small, pathetic and weak noise seems insulting in the silence.

"K-Krit." She's got the shakes. I stare at her. She's older than me. She's almost eleven. I'm only nine. But I tower above her tiny frame. I know if we keep running it'll kill Syl. I need to keep her somewhere warm. Blue Lady, help us.

I lead Syl over to some shrubbery and she curls up in my arms, her shaking almost violent. It feels like an eternity before it stops. She is asleep, a ball in my arms. She reminds me of the kitten that the doctors gave us once. Tiny and frail. She's so cold and I am terrified she'll go to the Good Place while she's sleeping and leave me alone in the forest.  
_They're not going to get us._  
I'm slumped on the couch in my apartment, eating potato chips from the packet, and watching some violent movie on TV in my boxers. Nothing else for me to do. I'm sixteen and I can't go to school and I'm too young to work and the last thing I need is to be caught with a fake ID.

Zack sets me up with a wad of cash every few months, so I live.

That night in the forest haunts me. Syl's frozen body in my arms, lugging her the last five hours to the outskirts of a city. I remember stealing clothes for us. Syl shivering, waiting for me behind the fence. And then her face - dressed in some baggy black pants, a grey sweatshirt and a red hat on her head, both of us wearing grey and green scarves, to hide our barcodes.

Those first two months on the streets were the harshest. We lived in an alley, with only the air vents for heating. We stole food from local merchants and sometimes, Syl picked pockets - she was smaller and better at it then I was. Maybe because she hated confrontation, she went unnoticed. But I was always caught.

At night, we sat huddled on and under cardboard boxes, talking about the others. Syl was frightened for Zack and I was terrified for Maxie.

I know why now; Max is my twin sister and Syl is biologically Zack's sister. Sometimes, if I'm depressed enough, Zack will tell me about Syl. Never about Max though. I think maybe she died.

I wonder where Syl is. Is she loved? Is she safe? Every time I think of Syl, I think of her huge, trusting blue eyes. My kitten. I want her back with me. I can't feel settled or safe without her at my side.

I remember the day Zack took her away. Her hair was short, to her chin. Blonde, it was. A proper golden colour. I remember her crying and begging Zack to let her stay with me. I remember Zack hitting her beautiful, trusting eleven-year old face. Sometimes I wonder if someone worked out her age wrong. She looked too small to be eleven. She seemed more like our Jace, who was only eight when we left.

Zack hit her twice; he was thirteen at the time. Then he dragged her away from me. Left me alone in a huge city without my Syl.

My kitten. I've only had six beers and I can feel that sinking feeling as sleep settles in. My Syl is dead. Lydecker got her. Smacked her around, sent her to Psy Ops and she came back, broken and bloody. She cried for help, but no one was left to hear her.

I can see her, gazing up with me . . . even though I am now sixteen; she still appears eleven in my mind. The grin as I told her stories. Her eyes. The way she always curled up like a kitten next to me to sleep. I remember in the barracks, when we were small, Syl used to sleep with Zack. She used to wait till even Maxie and Jondy were asleep and climb into bed with Zack. He used to scold her quietly, but he let her stay. He always sent her back to her own pallet before dawn, so no one else would see. It stopped when Syl was seven.

She used to sleep between Eva and me. I think she felt safe there. Then she shot Bram through the heart, when she was aiming at that bird. I remember her screaming for me. First wordless screaming, and then my name and then, there was silence from Psy Ops and she came back blank. And no one could touch her anymore. Not even to hug her.

Brin tried to hug her one time, a couple of days after she came back. Syl broke her arm. She as so terrified of everything that was happening. Psy Ops made her scared of the dark; she couldn't even have a blanket covering when she slept because it made her feel like she was suffocating.

I think that's when Zack decided Manticore was evil. Not Maxie's shakes or Jack's death. Seeing Syl come back from Psy Ops a shell of her former self shook a thirteen year old Zack more than he'd ever admit to.

_They're not going to get us._

It's a Wednesday afternoon and I wasn't expecting Zack for another three weeks. The place is kinda dirty. I'm wearing boxers and an old white shirt Zack has threatened to steal and destroy. For some reason, seeing me 'slob around', as Zack puts it, makes him extra pissed.

I swing the door open, beer in one hand. And Zack is there. Great, not only am I going to be lectured about the state of the apartment, but I'm going to be lectured about my alcohol intake. Fan-frigging-tastic. Just what I needed today. I'd had the shakes all morning and now. . .

There's Zack. And someone is with him. Short and curvy. . . Short, straight blonde hair. . . She's dressed in a blue top and black jeans, with red combat boots. Jondy. He brought Jondy here.

"Krit." I gaze into her blue eyes. It's her eyes and the way she says my name that makes me realize that it's not Jondy. It's Syl; my kitten.

"S-Syl," I say a grin on my face. And suddenly, I feel like an unwashed bum. She's so clean and sleek.

She flings her arms around my neck, hugging me tight. "God I miss you."

I wrap my arms around her, burying my face in her hair. She's alive. . . And she's not that terrified, haunted eleven year old now. My kitten. She's here. I can't let her again; I just can't . . . not again.

Zack's hiding a smile. "Syl . . .I thought you two needed to see each other. But, only till tomorrow morning. I have something else to take care of in the area, and then Syl and I have to go."

I'm not listening. I'm just holding my Syl in my arms and wanting to freeze this moment for the rest of my life. I stroke her hair.

Zack leaves and I drag Syl inside. She's smiling so brilliantly.

"I can't believe you're here," I say, hugging her again. She ducks her head.

"It took me three years of whining and moaning to get to see you," she answers, in that gorgeous, gorgeous voice of hers. "You look. . . incredible, Krit." I see something else flash in her eyes. "I don't know how I'm going to be able to leave tomorrow."

We curl up on the couch together; her slight frame on top of mine. My arms are around her waist, on of her hands entangled with mine. We just lie there, not talking or sleeping or anything. We're together. I could die right now and I'd be a happy man.

Syl wakes from her nap. She's been asleep for about 20 minutes. She's so relaxed, and she looks up at me.

"Sorry. . . I didn't mean to fall asleep. . . I just feel safe with you," she smiled.

"I feel safe with you too, kitten," I say, kissing her hair.

I feel safe, but incredibly protective . . . Syl's how old now. . .eighteen. . . I think she'd hate me if I told her she barely look sixteen.

"I love you Krit."

"I love you too Syl."

I lead her gently into the bedroom. She's looking unsure but so trusting I hate myself for wanting this - wanting her so badly. It's not lust or the whole mating thing. Or even the guy-thing. It's more love and intimacy.

Her lips brush my cheek as I cradle her in my lap, stroking her bare back soothingly. She's making a sound almost like purring, running her fingers through my hair. I push her back against the pillows looking into her eyes. She looks back at me, arms now around my neck.

I didn't know I was capable of these sorts of feelings; this is love, I know it. This is what all those crappy Pre-Pulse movies and TV shows and books tried to capture.

She pulls me down and kisses me, still purring.

Her legs are entangled with mine, a sheet wrapped around us. One of my arms is around her waist, and the other is playing with her hair. She's smiling, making that contented, almost-purring noise.

I manage to sleep, but not for long. Someone is slamming through the apartment and I know too late, it's Zack. There is absolutely no way to cover and I'm not going to pretend that I don't know he's here. I love Syl and I'm not letting her walk out that door without me again.

I pull on my boxers as Zack walks in, and recoils. We've shocked Zack. That's not something I've ever managed before. His glare is deadly, and I follow him from the room, shutting the door so Syl won't wake up.

"How. . . What the _hell _do you think you're doing, Krit?" Zack hissed at me. I blinked and suddenly realised I wasn't dealing with my CO and 'big brother'. I was dealing with Syl's very protective older brother . . .

"I. . .love her, Zack," I managed. Admitting I had actual, positive feelings towards a girl was hard enough, but to admit to Zack I had them for Syl? That was one the hardest, and also one of the easiest, things I've ever done.

"You'll endanger her, endanger yourself and we both know you'll be dragged back to Manticore," Zack spat. "It's not happening. Ever."

"I'm not letting you make her walk out here alone, unless she wants to," I growled.

"Is that a threat or a challenge?" Zack retorted.

"I'm telling you how it's going to work," I said. "You're my brother, Zack. I was hoping you'd understand."

"She's your weakness, Krit! You'll get yourselves killed!" Zack was yelling now, and I knew Syl would be awake now; no one can sleep through one of Zack's yelling lectures.

And there she is. Her blonde hair tussled, and her eyes still sleepy. She's dressed in one of my shirts. She doesn't acknowledge Zack, but goes to me, wrapping her arms around my waist, kissing me gently.

"Morning," she smiles, nuzzling my neck. I wrap my arms around her and look at Zack with an unwavering look.

Zack stared at her for a moment. "Syl. Go and get dressed." Syl tenses up, glancing at Zack. Something flashes in her eyes and for a second, she clings tightly to me. Then she's retreating back to the bedroom, looking miserable.

Zack goes to my fridge, getting himself a beer, even though it's barely 8 a.m.; but then, I doubt he slept at all these last few days. He stares out the kitchen window for a moment, scowling, drinking the beer in huge gulps.

"I've never seen her like that," Zack said softly. "She never smiles like that. . . She hasn't since the bird." Since Psy Ops. "I'm worried about her."

"She's eighteen Zack. Give her a chance," I said. "Please. For both of us. At Manticore we were back up - we work best together."

Zack stared blankly out the window. "If Syl wants to stay here with you, she can. Temporarily. The minute she wants to leave, she is free to go."

I nodded, relaxing, a grin on my face. A purpose. I had my kitten back with me.

When we told Syl, her face lit up, and she kissed me like I've never been kissed before. And Zack smiled and hugged both of us before handing us both some money and left.

_They're not going to get us._

We sat together in the back of the van, Lydecker driving. Logan Cale was lying on the floor, completely unconscious. Syl was curled in my lap, her head resting against my shoulder, her hair falling in her face. Her face was complete blank.

Zack and Maxie. Manticore had gotten them.

"Krit. . ."

"I'm still here, kitten."

Her grip on me tightened. I kissed her hair, white hot pain through me. Maxie. Maxie was dead. And Zack. We lost Zack.

"Krit," Syl asked softly. "You won't leave me alone, will you?"

"Not unless you want me to," I said, my arms tightening around her waist. "Every day we run, I'll be next to you, kitten. I promise I'll keep you safe."

Syl nodded, closing her eyes. "I know. I feel safe with you. . . Zack tried so hard to protect you and me, and the others. And now. . .they caught up with him, Krit. Is this running ever going to end?"

"Syl," I said, forcing her to look at me. "No matter how much they make us run, how far or for how long or how many of us they catch up to, they will never get you. Ever. I promise you that."

_They're not going to get us._

The smoke in the air is clearing. Fires are still burning out the back of Terminal City, but some Nomalies have that under control. Max and I are standing on top of the roof, watching the boundary of Terminal City.

"We did it, Krit," Max says softly. "I can't believe it. We're free."

I know Max and I are the same age but sometimes I feel like her big brother.

"Don't say that," I say, looking at the bodies littering the streets inside - and outside - Terminal City. "Max, America isn't a free country anymore. It hasn't been for a very long time and I doubt it will be again in our lifetime. And we're transgenics; someone is always going to be after us."

"White is gone, Renfro is dead and Lydecker is gone," Max said. "Who else is going to want us?"

Syl appears at my side, smiling.

"Any one who invested in Manticore. Someone with a grudge," I shrugged. "Americans aren't free people anymore; and you've just been declared an official American citizen. Think about it. Freedom in any part of the world these days is nothing but a delusion."

I leave the roof. I can hear Syl following me.

"You don't believe that, Krit," Syl said, crossing her arms.

"Maybe I do."

"I know you don't. I know you believe life is going to be better now. I know you've been looking forward to finding Zack and having our baby and living in one place for more than three months."

I turn to Syl. We've got a weird relationship - sometimes she's my kitten, or my older sister or my best friend or my wife. She's my other half. She stares at me.

"You know you're right. But Maxie can't stay here in Seattle, believing everything is rosy. She needs to watch her back," I said.

Syl comes up to me. "Relax, Krit. Manticore's not going to get us now." As she leans into me, I rest my hand on her pregnant stomach and close my eyes. No. As long as Syl has the nightmares of Psy Ops, as long as I stiffen every time I see a black bird, as long as Zack is in Iowa as 'Adam', we're going to be running.

And as long as Syl's safe and we love each other, nothing can touch us.

_They're not going to get us._


End file.
